


have faith my love (the gods watch over us)

by ryanreynolds



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: (because i'm a slut for romantic things), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fix-It, Future Fic, I tagged it as fix-it because people who are dead on tv are not dead here, Love, R plus L equals J, but really I lied there's a lot of angst to come, fUCK ME, it was supposed to be a simple one shot, look at this trainwreck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-16 15:19:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7273399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryanreynolds/pseuds/ryanreynolds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fate and happiness never goes hand in hand, and one will always seek to destroy the other. As it is, Time and the Lords of Westeros is on the side of Fate, this time around.</p><p>A prophecy has been spoken, another rebellion has been sparked, and Aegon and Sansa are left in the crossfire. Nothing truly good and beautiful lasts very long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	have faith my love (the gods watch over us)

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was supposed to be a short fluffy-but-with-the-obligatory-angst-kind of story, and most importantly a _one shot_.... Well, that sort of failed.
> 
> Also, fix-it, because Rickon Stark is not dead, and would not be killed by something as simple as an arrow. He was raised a Skagos, ffs. And Shaggy Dog is not dead, either, what a truly beautiful world  
> And Lady is in here as a reincarnation (sort of).

They were married at the steps in front of the newly rebuilt Great Sept of Baelor. Her hair was on fire and blew in the wind like a flag of its own, and his violet eyes were softer than Dany had ever seen them before. 

She looked at them from the top, watched their every move, she watched the weak smile on the Northern woman's lips, she noticed the hesitation on her dear nephew's part before he leaned in to seal their marriage with a kiss of love. The crowd cheered and there's laughter and happiness in the air, and she looked at her subjects and she herself smiled. She was home, her nephew was in front of him, her people were happy and the kingdom was flourishing. The North with their little King, strong and wise beyond his years, sent a puppy, a direwolf she knew it was called, as a wedding gift; he apologised that it was not fit for Aegon but promised, in those fine and delicate words of King Bran, that the happiness this wolf would bring his sister, Aegon's wife, should be the most valuable gift he would ever receive.

Later, Dany would watch her new good-daughter receive her brother's gift, she would watch the woman who easily could have been a Queen in the North crumble in on herself, she watched her fall to her knees and hold the puppy close while whispering something she couldn't hear. Tales spoken from servant to maid to chef would reach her ears, and the stoic, fire haired Princess should have whispered, _oh, Lady, how I have missed you, my darling girl. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry._.  
She would watch Sansa Stark weep tears of joy and tears of grief, and she would see that this woman might have suffered just as much as the Dragon Queen, and that skin of porcelain didn't equal a soul made of the same. Because the Princess from North, the Winter Queen as she was called because of her sad, eternally wintergrey, eyes, had a soul made of steel, Valyrian steel, the strongest in the Seven Kingdoms. And she would watch the Winter Queen look to the skies and whisper a thank you to the brother, she lost, the mother and father she never said goodbye to, and the sister who will never be found. And Dany vowed that she will make this beautiful girl happy.

Her nephew kept his distance, as a newly wed husband should do, and Dany smiled affectionately to him. He did it well, her dear nephew, despite him barely being able to restraint himself from embracing his grieving wife. He locked eyes with her and she nods approvingly, _give her time_. And he would, he would give her time to grieve, and he would give her time to begin to love him, just as he loved her. She knew this from looking at his violet eyes, so like her own, and she knew that look; from herself, when she looked at Drogo, in the end. That was the look of a man in love, and she smiled at the Northern woman, _Do not hurt him, my dear_.

***

Dany worried very little. When it came to trading, when it came to her dragons, when it came to her people, she worried. And as she discovered over the course of a few months, she also worried for her nephew, and oh, how she wished for his happiness. So she watched, sometimes from the shadows and sometimes in plain sight. She watched his dear wife and she watched him. She watched as the ice Sansa had carried in her heart began to thaw as the direwolf grows, she saw Sansa smiling when the wolf ran around and when it rolls down the hills and jumps in the small lakes in the garden. She watched as Sansa affectionately played with beast, who is as tame as a bunny when Sansa looks at her - as she came to learn. The direwolf's name is Lady, and Sansa was never happier, and never sadder, than when she says that name. From one of the old Septas she learnt that once, in what seems to be a hundred years ago, the Lady Stark had a wolf, just like the one who ran in her footsteps now, and the Lady who was just a girl at this time, loved the direwolf as only a Stark can, trusted it as only a Stark can. _You see, to the Starks, the wolves are a part of their very soul. And the wolves have come again._

Another thing, Dany observed, is that with every inch the wolf grows, Sansa's beauty blossomed. She was radiating, and Dany was blinded, and she pitied her poor nephew. He was smitten with her, lost to her command, when she was but a ghost, a Night Princess as cold as the leader of the Others, that they had defeated at a great cost. When she had been held down and held back by the ghosts of her past, of the Baratheon and then Lannister, that tormented the realm and her mind for years, by the manipulation of Littlefinger, and by the death of her father, who she saw die, and her brother and mother, by the Boltons who had betrayed her entire family and kingdom, by the looming threat of the living dead. She had been broken beyond repair, Dany had thought when Aegon first brought her back to the capitol, but her brother, King Bran, had found a way to save her, she found. A wolf like the one, Sansa lost when the Starks were dragged into the great game, when the family had been condemned to misery and grief beyond any measure.

But a beautiful Princess and a wolf bigger than should be allowed, weren't going to make her nephew happy. So she kept on watching. She watched as Aegon stood from afar with a solemn expression and a loving smile on his lips, and she felt her heart break, as she followed his eyes to his wife who paid no attention to anyone but her wolf, Lady. _Oh, Lady, Lady, Lady, you have come back to me, my own Lady_.  
She watched as her nephew began the descent the stairs, walk to his wife, lay his hand on her shoulder for a second, exchange meaningful looks, and then he moved on as Lady Stark, no, Lady Targaryen, as she was now, stayed with her wolf. And Dany began to worry, did the Princess love, or even like, her beloved nephew? Was he going to be stuck in a marriage of convenience, of duty, but with nothing to return the affection he so willingly gave? And a seed of resent of the Northern woman began to grow, as she stayed with her wolf, and her dragon nephew loved her from afar.

And to feed the seed, she continued watching. Whenever she didn't have to tend to council meetings, to proposals and complaints from her subjects, she observed every move, the two made, the Prince and the Princess of the Targaryen Court. And she saw how they walked arm in arm with the wolf trailing not far behind, and she saw as the Northern Queen, now more South than ever as the sun caught her hair on fire and the wind made it blow like a wicked torch and her dress of orange silk made her look like the fire, the Targaryen words spoke of, smiled at her nephew. And not one of those small smiles she would grant everyone at court when she first arrived, no, a smile the Dragon Queen had thought was reserved only for that direwolf of hers. And Dany is more at peace than ever.

And just before she turned around, she saw Aegon slide his arm around Sansa's waist and whispered into her ear. What he said with that melodic voice of his, she couldn't hear, and she doesn't want to, for Sansa smiled a whole new smile, Dany had never seen before, and this moment, in the light of a dying sun of red, was not for prying eyes to see. This was a private moment between husband and wife, and as Aegon kissed his wolf wife's cheek, Dany turned around and left them to the protection of the sun and the direwolf.

***

In two weeks the world was blissful and there was peace. True peace and the country was brightening much like Sansa's beauty, and Dany was happy. She had her dragons, who loved her dearly, and she didn't feel the sting of jealousy she expected at looking at Sansa and Aegon, instead she felt happiness. For they both deserved it, to be loved and to love. They were good people, and good people deserved more than anyone to be happy and safe.

But good people, truly good people, don't go very long before the world decides to punish them again.

As Aegon was to travel north to visit Sansa's brothers, Bran and Rickon, who together ruled the dark and cold part of her country - the North had independence to a certain degree for Dany knew nothing of its traditions but one, that the North remembered and that they knew no king or queen but the King in the North whose name was Stark, and so she yielded and let the wiser take the decisions - Sansa stayed behind much to her own grief. She clung to Aegon's hand, begged him to take her with him, _they are my brothers_ , but Aegon smiled at her and shook his head. Dany was the only one close to hear them, and she was shocked as the news sank in and she began to understand Aegon's need to stand an inch in front of his wife at all moments, and why he had his hand a little too far from her waist. He's protecting his child, and Dany felt the final seed of resentment she might have held against the Northern girl wither and die.

So she took her good-daughter's hand, smiled reassuringly for no harm will come to her or her baby, and together they waved a goodbye to the Young Griff, Prince of Westeros, and Lady howled as her master's husband left her side. A direwolf was strong but it understands that not all things that can come her master to harm was something, she, a wolf, could protect her from. And so she begged him to come back, just as Dany knew Sansa did, but her dear nephew doesn't stop. He looked back more times than can be counted on two hands, but he rode on. He didn't fail his duty, and she knew that Sansa won't either.

They all went through the motions, Dany tended to her people and their wishes and demands, their small quarrels and she tried to find a just solution, and Sansa travelled wide and far throughout the city with Dany's trusted Queensgard, and Sansa tended to the children of the streets, gave them the food they need, and gave them toys from her old room, alongside with shoes and dresses she had no use of any longer. She gave the poorest coins and she made crying children smile with a blinding smile and a ringing laughter. She told bad jokes to the maids as they made her ready for the day, and they love her for it, and she kept a sheltering hand on her stomach at nearly all times, most of the time it seemed like it was an unconscious decision as she sometimes looked at her hand like she had no idea how it came to lay on her belly that had already gained a little, beautiful bump. Dany smiled at the thought of a grandniece or nephew, a child to fill the halls with laughter and light once again. A child would be enough to make the peace last, she was sure of this.

Letters from her dear nephew arrived to them both with a few days between. Sansa lit up when she read hers, and they were for sure filled with promises of love and well wishes from her brothers, and tales of what her brothers had done in the last couple of years. Dany's a bit more straightforward, she believes, but it's alright; she's not his wife after all, and his letters were full of that easy going personality of his, and he underlines his every use of _Honourable Aunt_ and she laughed.

And then night fell, and there is a week till Aegon's awaited return, and the terrors had not lessened since Melisandre walked this world, Dany discovered, and Sansa's screams and cries filled the halls and aisles of the castle, and she ran in her nightgown to her and her nephew's room, and what she saw left her shocked and terrified. Sansa sat up in her bed with eyes as red as her hair and screamed and cried until the moment her maids ran to her and held her close. Sansa shook in her maids' embrace, and she looked more broken than when she arrived at the gate of King's Landing. And the bed and her good-daughter's beautiful nightgown, a gift from her brothers, silk as fine and white as the snow that falls at Winterfell, was red with blood and as Sansa began to tear in her dress, Dany realised where it's coming from and a tear slid down her cheek.

She did what any woman, any friend, would do, and she tapped the handmaidens softly on the shoulders, and they bowed and scrambled of to get rid the bedsheets, of any sign of the tragedy, and Dany took the Winter's daughter in her arms and held her close as sobs racks through her body and shook both Sansa and Dany to their cores, and her heart broke for her nephew and his wife, for her Young Griff and her new found friend with a fire in her hair and soul that matched that which flowed in her and Aegon's blood. 

"He's going to hate me, he's going to cast me aside, oh god, _oh god_ ". She struggled to say the words and her voice was so broken and Dany did not know how she would survive this, not Sansa who had lost so much in her young, young life.

"Shh," she hushed, and spoke words of comfort though she knew as well as Sansa, that they meant nothing.

So she sent word for the direwolf to be brought back to its master, and Sansa clung to it like she was a mad man drowning, and she had no refuge but Lady. And Dany stayed away, repeating over and over again with a soft voice, "he loves you and always will. You have not failed, and it was your child as well."

At some point, Sansa calmed down a little, or she had opened that part of her that allowed her to conceal her feelings whilst she was drowning on the inside, and she went to the desk where Dany was seated. With a quivering voice, she spoke.

"Will you let me bath, my Queen?"

And Dany's heart broke all over again, and she nodded and took the hand of her friend. She held on tight for she was afraid if she let go, Sansa would try to run, run, run, run, away from them all, and at this point it would not be Aegon alone who would miss her oh so dearly.

She stayed as Sansa washed her blood of her body, as she laid a trembling hand on her belly and sung a voiceless song of sorrow as she added yet another name to the list of the dear ones she had lost to a world to cruel for beautiful souls like Sansa.

"He had wanted him to be Rhaegar but I objected," Sansa whispered, maybe to Dany, maybe to Lady, maybe to the wind that howled outside the windows, "I wanted him to be Robb, after my brother who never wanted a crown and was given one despite that. I took away his son's name, and I took away his son."

"No..", Dany began, but Sansa didn't seem to notice, or maybe she just didn't care.

"I took away his son, I bled red like the wedding my brother was slayed at," her whispering sounded threatening, and Dany vowed that if there was any way she could find out who brought this grief and hell upon her good-daughter, she would let them taste the Fire in her blood and the Fire from her dragons, a slow death. "He never should've married me. Starks never fare well in the capitol, and I drag him down, into our misery."

"You have no blame in this, my sweet friend," Dany spoke with a firm voice that left no room for discussion.

Sansa locked eyes with her, iceblue against violet, "he had never been happier, he said. He will hate me for rejecting our son, our daughter."

Dany fell to her knees beside the broken girl who seemed eternally young, younger than Dany was when she was bestowed the title of Dothrakian Queen. "Listen, and listen carefully, dear girl, Aegon loves you. Has since he first looked at your beautiful hair and heard your angelic voice. He loves you for your council, for your smiles and for everything you bring into his life. He loves you for your innocence, for your happiness, and for being his wife. And he will not hate you for a thing, you nor anyone else could control. He will grieve with you, and he will be there to make you heal and to make you smile like you once did. Him and Lady both." The wolf perked up at the sound of her name, and she came to Sansa's side as the loyal partner in life, that she was. And Sansa smiled.

Dany gripped her hand tight and helped her out the bathtub, gave her a silky robe to give her warmth and arm in arm, she guided her to Dany's very own rooms where a spare bed had been placed, so she could keep an eye on her good-daughter to ensure that no harm would come to her, and she nodded to her Queensgard that all as one stood in front of the door to protect the Princesses of Westeros with their lives. And as she watched her Princess, the precious wife of her nephew, go to sleep, weak in spirit at the hour, but strong in soul and fierce in heart, she vowed to find the one who was responsible. For Daenerys Targaryen was no fool, and she knew that when a bump showed the chance of losing the child was close to none, and she would find the criminal and make him pay for the suffering he had brought to _her_ court.

As soon she was sure that the even breathing of her good-daughter equalled her being asleep, she rose from her own bed, found her most trusted advisor, Lord Varys, and told her suspicions. He nodded carefully and promised her, that if a crime had been committed against the Crown princess of Westeros, against the Crown itself, his Little Birds would hear whispers of it, and whispers, he promised, could be louder than any scream. Dany nodded, "find me my sinner, and bring him forth so I can give my dear sister peace."  
When Varys rounded the corner, she heaved a deep sigh and mentally prepared her for the next task ahead. To compose a letter that would tell Aegon of the events that had conspired in his absence without making him haste to the capitol in a speed that could get him killed. She had to appeal to his reason, without admitting to her suspicions of the abrupt miscarriage of his child. Aegon knew very little of pregnancy, she had gathered from his letters, so it should not be hard to avoid admitting her thoughts.

_Hurry, my dear nephew, for your wife needs you so. But do not haste your hurry, for she is not ready to face you as of yet. We will be expecting you, my dear nephew, my dear Young Griff._

And another letter to her brothers, Kings of the North, who would want to know what had happened. Maybe they would send her another direwolf, this time a reincarnation of the dark Grey Wind, that would make her be able to come at peace with her brother's death and maybe also that of her child's. Because as it was, lying in the womb of Sansa, it was her child for and foremost, and it was in her body, they had died. Her body was their coffin, and Dany grieved on behalf of both her nephew and her good-daughter.

***

Sansa withered before her eyes and as each day passed by, she sunk further and further into herself. Dany watched her walk with Lady as she had done, when she first arrived at King's Landing and most of the time after the wedding, and Dany watched her weep silently into the furs of her house's protector, whispering silent prayers; mayhaps for her returning home, for Rickon and Bran demanding her being brought back, for her fleeing in the body of a hawk with Lady running quickly beneath her - for her family coming back to life, for this tragedy that had befallen the land of Westeros to never have existed. Or perhaps just for the pain to subside. For her to once be able to see a light in the darkness surrounding her.

Days passed and Sansa never looked at anyone, everyone that saw her whispered of the tragedy of a beauty to have such pain bestowed upon her, that her beauty ceased to exist. And Dany silenced them all with a hard stare, a discreet cough to remind them that this was King's Landing and every word was heard by someone. That no secret was hidden safely, and maybe also a warning to whoever had poisoned her good-daughter's mind and womb. She would find them, and they would die, just as Sansa's hope and child had. She wasn't her father, but if she was, they would suffer as Sansa suffered each step she took without the gentle reassurance of her child in her womb, the little swell of her belly that reminded her that happiness and light wasn't far away.

She kept Sansa in her room, not yet trusting her to not take care of herself. Of not climbing to the balcony and maybe be tempted to travel to the eternal light where her original Lady and her family would be waiting for her. And with Aegon gone, Dany did not think that there would be enough here in King's Landing to keep her from jumping. _Where are you?_ Each night she fell asleep watching the other woman breath evenly, though her face was contorted and her mind seemed to be full of demons, she begged for Aegon's swift return and for Bran and Rickon to heed her call and come to their sister's aid. Of them coming back and saving Sansa from her mind and past demons.

***

Banners of both the dragon and the wolf rise in the horizon the fifteenth day after Sansa lost the child, and Dany lets out a breath she doesn't know she has been holding. As horses thunder towards the gates, and she can see the familiar auburn hair of the King in the North, that he shares with his sister, and her whole body relaxes with relief as she sees her nephew's beautiful white horse right behind him, his snow white hair blowing in the wind, and she can almost see the fire in his violet eyes that so mirror that in his blood. He will bring fire and fury down on those that have harmed his wife, she knows this, and hopes that Varys soon will hear of whispers that reveal the traitor, so she can bring them their well deserved justice. With renewed strength, she turns around and begins her search of Sansa, who is probably to be found in the godswood. Praying, as she always does.

"My lady?" she speaks as she finds Sansa kneeling in front of the tree, whispering incoherent words.

Sansa jerks back, and she stands, dusting of her dress and turns around with a courtesy, "my Queen, what brings you here?"

"We have quests who is arriving soon, guests from the North."

Sansa blinks and slowly the words sinks in, and for the first time in just over two weeks, a real smile grows on her lips, and she runs past her, with her dress flying around her feet and Lady running happily behind her; she is probably relieved that finally a ghost of the old Sansa shows up. And Dany follows, trailing behind her as she herself tries to contain her smile. The seed of sorrow that had grown into a beautiful, wintery flower inside of her missed its first watering, and she began to feel it fade from her mind. As she reached the throne room, she found Aegon standing in the far back, looking at his wife with those sad and angry violet eyes of his, and Sansa sitting on the floor embracing both of her brothers and crying and thanking them. All three of them grabbed onto each other like they were starving, like they were drowning, in the others were the only reason they didn't die. They held onto each other, like it was the last time they would see each other, and with how the world had treated house Stark, she knew they had plenty of reason to worry. The world had gotten away with killing too many honourable and innocent people and direwolves of the noble house.

She walked to her nephew and dragged him into a warm embrace, for the child's death had broken Sansa, but it had also broken Aegon. Not to the same degree, but she knew, he felt no less pain than Sansa did. She felt his hot breath against her neck, and she would never mention it to anyone, but she was also pretty sure that her shoulders and neck got wet with tears of sorrow, and she held him tighter. His arms snaked around her waist and he tightened his grip a bit, before kissing her shoulder and wrestling himself softly free.

"I must go to my wife, she needs me."

He said it with a soft voice and soft eyes, and she nodded. She didn't know how Sansa would react to him, but she knew that she would never deny him, for that she was too dutiful. And Dany hated it; that a girl like her had been groomed into accept that one day she would be married and he would own her, body and soul. And in this case, heart as well. She watched as he left her side and with shaky steps he went to his wife. Sansa looked at him, from where she, Rickon and Bran was placed on the floor, and accepted Aegon's outstretched hand.

She walked closer, just to hear if everything went well between them - for she cared a lot about both of them, and she worried about both of their happinesses.

"-never hate you, sweetling. Never in a million years, for you hold my heart, every inch of it, is yours."

Dany knew that this strictly speaking was none of her business, but she was the Queen and this was her throne room. So she would listen and she would pray for them to make up, for them to get the chance to heal each others' scars.

"Our child was lost, but he was not unloved. I loved him, you loved him, and the Gods loved him. So much they could not let him go," his words were hushed and only meant for Sansa's ears, so Dany walked to Bran and Rickon, trying her best to tune out the voices of Sansa and Aegon.

"My lords, my Kings," she greeted them, "you have travelled far, and you must be tired. If you want to, I will show you to your chambers."

Her voice was not unkind but it didn't leave room for discussion. They had to know about her suspicions.

"There are things, I need to discuss, that should not be heard by prying ears."

They nodded and Rickon got on the other side of Bran's wheelchair, and they began to walk. Bran whistled, and the two direwolves that had been with Lady came running after them, happy and alive. _Summer and Shaggydog_ , she recalled. How lovely creatures they were, and she smiled at the thought, that even though House Stark was beaten, it was not broken. _The wolves will come again_ as someone once told her, and prophecies never spoke lies.

She glanced back at the couple they left behind, and saw as Aegon laid a hand on her cheek, and Sansa's moved to cover his. How she leaned into his touch with barely concealed tears and a small smile growing on her lips. Sorrow and grief had been defeated and the realm was at peace. And maybe, there was hope for it to be defeated here in the castle as well.

They walked, the three of them, through aisles and corridors, until they reached the room that had selected for the two Stark boys - or men, they had seen too much and felt too much pain to be called boys. They had none of the innocence that required to be children. Their childhood had been taken from them, just like it had been taken from Dany.

The room she had chosen were fifty meters from Sansa and Aegon's room, give or take, and it was placed so they could look out at the sea. Today, at this glorious day, the sun shone and the ocean looks like a diamond, shimmering with sunlight and maybe they all have a shot at happiness after all.

"I did not tell you much in the letter," she begins. "But it was not safe. We have reason to believe someone deceived Sansa, your dear sister and Crown Princess of the Seven Kingdoms, into drinking moon tea which resulted in her losing her child, and the heir to the Crown Prince of Westeros. You know this as much as I, the realm and I need heirs that can secure the Targaryen dynasty from any more usurpers, and even more importantly, we have to find the spy that has infiltrated my court, so none of us shall ever be in danger. Killing an unborn child doesn't require much skill but it could easily be my nephew and heir when they strike again."

Bran looks at her with his wise, blue eyes, that she knows from Sansa, and he nods after a good minute. "First, I want to assure you, the Starks are loyal to the Crown, even if we rule the North as Kings ourselves. We would provide men and whatever else you may have needed to strike down this attack on the crown, this treachery, even if my dear sister hadn't been married to Prince Aegon."

He paused and ran his hand over his direwolf's fur, and Dany waited patiently. "Sansa, my sister who I had long thought lost and dead, means everything to me, and to Rickon. And though this was an attack to the Crown, it was first and foremost an attack to the North. So if this comes to a fight, you will see Stark banners on the front line." 

Dany smiled and nodded. "Yes, yes, that was what I was counting on. My Master of Whispers, the notorious Spider, had his spies on it, and very soon we will have word on who brought this to my house, to our family."

Her last statement was followed by silence, and she watched as Bran lowered his gaze to the ground, without even seeing it. It looked as if his mind was a hundred miles away, and maybe also a few years; back to when they still lived in Winterfell, safe and content with their lives. Together and healthy with smiles on their lips and hope in their eyes. She moved her gaze away from the older brother and looked to the younger, Rickon with his dark direwolf and those wild, deep eyes. His hair stood in all directions and mirrored that feral personality of his. She had heard stories about his ferocity on the battle field, and how he and his wolf had been like one, equally wild and full of thoughts of revenge; not blinded by it like many before him, just consumed by it, in that moment, in those tragic days.

When he spoke, his voice was soft and deep, and strong, hardened by his many years among wildlings "Sansa has always been strong, though more in mind than body. These traitors has managed to take that away from her."

She could hear the muted fury beneath his words and noted that Rickon Stark was not one, she would want to have on her bad side. She could have him killed in the blink of an eye by her dragons, but she was sure the young Prince - or, according to the spies Varys had placed in the North for safety precautions, more of the King who joined their forces on the battlefields and who rode around the kingdom to make sure no one disobeyed his older brother's commands. Someone would see him as the Hand of the King, but Varys assured her, that if the need came, the people of the North had accepted Rickon as their king as much as they had Bran. They adored the brothers - and their beautiful Princess, and she could only imagine the fury that the North would respond with, if the news of someone succeeding in barring her of her child came to light.

Rickon gave his brother's shoulder a reassuring pat, and then began to walk to the door. "I'm going to go to our sister; she needs us. Shaggy dog, to me."

They both watched him leave, and Bran sighed, "he has always been driven by impulses, more than logical thinking. I bet, he'll find that our sister is wrapped up in the arms of her Prince husband."

She smiled and nodded. "I have never seen anyone more infatuated by one person, than my dear nephew is with your sister. They have changed each other, as cliché as it may sound, and even if she thinks he hates her, she could never stay away from him for long."

"The same goes for him. As soon as he got your letter, as softly as you put, he still got the message you were trying to convert into a lighter tale, he was already on his horse." Bran reminisced.

She looked at him in confusion, "I thought he'd already left Winterfell by then?"

"Oh no, he had wanted to get a cradle made in traditional Northern style, and our carpenter was delayed." Bran's brows furrowed deeply as he explained and looked seriously at her, "he sent you a raven as soon as he found out, which was two days before your raven arrived."

Her eyes widened slightly. "Do you know what he wrote in that letter?"

Bran looked like he was considering her question for a few moments before finally shaking his head slowly. "No, but I bet it was about how excited he was to surprise Sansa with the cradle."

The realization dawned on Dany in that moment and she felt sick to her stomach, as she tried to process it. Of course, she couldn't be entirely sure, but it was too coincidental for there not to be a little truth in her suspicion.

He looked at her with those wide eyes, looking into her very soul, and she suddenly felt uncomfortably bare in front of him. "What? What have you realized?"

She shook her head. "It's more of an inkling, really. But the timing.. oh, my Lord, Bran." She took a deep breath. "The timing fits too perfectly. No one here at court knew about the pregnancy, not even I before his departure."

As she tried to gain confidence to say the rest of the sentences, she could see the wheels turning in Bran's head, and his eyes grew a little sadder, as he caught on. 

"You think, that by sending that letter," Bran's smile was pure melancholy, and she could see how his heart hurt just as much as hers, "Aegon may have contributed in Sansa losing her child."

Licking her lips, she nodded. "He loves her, Bran, you have to know that, and he would never do anything to hurt her. But yes, that is what I fear."

The time seemed to stop as they both sat in silence, musing on how the case had developed, and what other terrors this might prophesy for the future. How tragically the world was constructed, always trying to take away the hope and innocence from those very few who still possessed the ability to wake up in the morning or go to sleep at night, without knowing that tomorrow might be even worse than today. That the morrow morning always promised to be a bit darker and that the world would always be bitter, and treat those still walking in sun light atrociously. Every pure soul still believing in the good in humans' heart would be punished till the day they would grow cold and cynical like everyone else. Till they too yearned towards death and absolute freedom. 

She never wanted that for anyone, and as she had kept watch over their love, she wanted it even less for Aegon and Sansa.

A beat, and then he met her eyes, ice blue against violet. “In that case, Your Grace, we may have to consider the possibility of this not just the work of a few evil men. This is too elaborate for just petty revenge. We may consider the possibility of a rebellion Against the Crown, and those in power. Against us.”

“They mustn't know about this, Bran." Her voice was steady and firm, as a queen's voice should be. 

When he looked at her, she knew, he disagreed. “Your Grace, with all due respect, don’t you think it’d be wiser to let them know, so they can prepare? If it is to come to a war, it’d be better if everyone here was prepared.”

“It would break them. Both of them. You want to protect your sister, I want to protect my nephew. ” She countered, for she knew she was right. She hadn’t known Aegon all his life but she felt like she could read him like an open book, and that book told her, that if he knew he was the one that caused the attack on his wife, that caused the murder of his unborn child, he would break.

“You have my word. This will not get outside these walls, until we find the men responsible for this treachery.” Bran didn’t look like he’d changed his mind, but as long as he relented and promised her secrecy, she was content.


End file.
